


Two Cents

by MixterGlacia



Series: RvB Wing Fics [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Multi, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 13:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11738055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixterGlacia/pseuds/MixterGlacia
Summary: Felix has a suggestion for the Freelancers.





	Two Cents

**Author's Note:**

> I need to chill with the wingfics but today is not that day apparently.

Despite their better judgment, the Freelancers get back in touch with the mercenaries. That’s probably how Wash wakes up to find Felix lounging in Maine’s favorite armchair, while Locus had taken over Wash’s recliner.

 

“Heyyy Shimmers!” the shrike bolts upright, deceptively delicate looking hands curled into the headrest of the chair. His pretty grey wings are held high. Jesus it was easy to see why Felix was so good at infiltration. The tired old saying held true for the young man. He didn’t fit the look of a gun for hire. “Been a while.”

 

“Two years.” Locus’ voice is deadpan. It was almost unnatural to see the harpy eagle out of his armor. Where as Maine looked pretty much exactly as one would expect, Locus was just as much of a wildcard as Wash was. Mind you, it wasn’t the first time the hummer had seen the quiet mercenary in civvies, so he was able to pick up on the fact that his hair had grown out significantly, and that he had a few more scars than before.

 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.” Wash mumbles, hiking a thumb over his shoulder. “Maine’s in the shower. We weren’t expecting you to show up so soon.”

 

“No worries, Wash.” Felix’s eyes crinkle at the corners and he traces invisible patterns into the fabric under his palms.

 

The three lapse into an awkward quiet until Maine emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. The owl is surprised, looking between the others for a moment. Then he moves over to where Felix is and wraps a thick arm under the shrike’s arms, hauling him out of the Freelancer’s chair before dropping the swearing mercenary to the side.

 

Wash can’t help the little chuckle that escapes him. He moves to the kitchen to get breakfast going, as he had been intending to do before the interruption. He’s startled when Locus suddenly appears at his side, looking over the hummer’s shoulder curiously. 

 

“What are we making?” his low voice and serious expression almost throws the older man into another fit of giggles.

 

“Tapsilog.” Wash quickly adds, “It’s something Maine likes.”

 

The large man grunts from where he reads the paper in his chair.

 

“Isn’t that from some Earth country?” Felix asks, having seized control of Wash’s recliner after Locus had gotten up from it.

 

“Mhmm. It’s been a staple in his family for generations. His aunt left him their recipes.” the older man gestures at the open box by the coffee pot, stuffed full of cards. “It’s beef, eggs, and fried rice.” Wash explains, heating a pan. He goes to the fridge to get a tupperware of rice. “Locus can you get the spices by the toaster?”

 

“Which one?” the eagle responds, examining the shakers in question.

 

“All of them. I set them out last night when I was marinating the beef.” he cracks several eggs into the pan. “You guys want your eggs hard-” the hummer chooses to ignore the childish giggle from Felix. “Or runny?”

 

“You’re the chef, Shimmers. You tell us. “ the shrike practically purrs, draped over the arm of Wash’s chair.

 

Wash glares, pointing at him with the spatula. “Be glad we haven’t been to the market, or I’d shove a durian up your ass.”

 

Locus tilts his head, large crest fluttering out, intrigued. He hands over the spices. “You eat those?”

 

The older man tosses his head lightly. “Nah. I’d just get it for Felix.” he pulls the eggs from the pan, setting them aside. In another pan, he starts frying the cuts of beef. They sizzle loudly, and a savory aroma begins to float throughout the room. In the first pan, he dumps the rice, breaking up the clumps of it. Stray grains jump from the heat. Wash starts stirring, having Locus break another two eggs into the rice, yolks breaking into tiny shreds. The older man then shakes in various seasonings, humming very softly under his breath.

 

Felix groans dramatically, back arching when he stretches his arms. “Jesus I missed this shit so much. Locus is great, don’t get me wrong, but you’re on a whole other plane of existence, Shimmers.” his wings fan out behind him, slim talons digging into the side of Wash’s recliner, fabric tearing audibly.

 

“Don’t ruin my chair!” Wash snaps. “It wasn’t cheap!”

 

“Oh, quit your bitching. You’ll probably have to leave this place behind anyway. Besides, with the pay we’ll make, you can get like...twenty of the best chairs you can imagine.”

 

The Freelancer sighs, flipping the cuts of meat. “You’re still a dick for messing it up.” he tosses the rice skillfully. “What’s this job anyway?”

 

“Just some undercover work, no big.” the shrike hums warmly. He gets to his feet and meanders aimlessly. “You and I gotta get into the crowd at this cafe and get some intel on some weapons ring they run. Then we get chummy with their boss. Our client needs the competition dealt with.”

 

Wash prods at the food again. “Why not just snipe him?” he hands the rice to Locus. “Plates are above the coffee maker.”

 

The eagle accepts the pan, digging through the cupboards. “He wants the weapons cache, but doesn’t know where it is.”

 

_ “Of course.” _ Maine grumbles from the living room. He gets up and sets his paper aside. He comes over, leaning on the kitchen island. Felix ghosts after him like a shadow.

 

Wash pulls the meat from the stovetop, taking the plates from Locus. He piles beef and eggs over the rice before sliding them over the counter. “Enough work stuff. We can talk more later.”

 

Felix snatches up his food, grabbing one of the forks laid out on the countertop. He leans over the island, plucking a knife from the butcher  block. He slices off cubes of beef. Every motion is exaggerated and gleeful. The shrike speaks through a mouthful of  rice. “Fuck yesss. Wash you are a gift to this world.” his feathers shift against the barstool. “Cook all my food you beautiful bastard.”

 

“I’m not  _ that _ great, you drama king.” Wash snorts before tucking into his own meal. “Also, I doubt you’d like to have tuyo on a regular basis. That’s our normal go to for breakfast.”

 

Felix gives him a look, arching an eyebrow. “Can’t you just stick to burgers?”

 

“Like I said, Maine’s aunt gave me the recipes, so I’m gonna use them.” the older man gestures with a fork. “I like their food more than just burgers.”

 

Locus quietly sits next to Wash. “I can share some of my own if you like.”

 

The hummer smiles lightly. “That sounds perfect.”

 

* * *

 

 

The cafe was popular, despite the fact that it was really just a cover up for the owners illegal activities. All Wash knew was he had no earthly idea how to make fancy coffee. (he certainly knew how to scald himself with the equipment.) Felix had gone on to tell him that it was easier to pull off the job if they were behind the counter. The shrike didn’t reveal how he’d gotten them hired, and frankly the Freelancer didn’t care. They’d been there two months.

 

Inside the shop, Felix was Erik and Wash was Aaron.

 

Erik was the rising star. He knew all the regulars by name. He made the best coffee in town. He had all the hot gossip you could ever want. Everyone was charmed by the pretty shrike.

 

Aaron was the soft spoken baker. He was the war vet trying to make a living. The older crowd liked him. He listened to them, and always had wonderful fresh bread on the tables. Everyone trusted the gentle soul, perpetually covered in flour.

 

Aaron quietly bundles an order of shortbread, handing it over to Erik. There’s a dramatic gasp from the other side of the counter.

 

“Agent Washingtub?!”

 

Aaron stops dead in his tracks, staring over his shoulder with wide eyes. Clearly he was hallucinating because Caboose is beaming at him, a mug of hot cocoa cradled in his clumsy hands. “Uh...you must be mistaken, sir.” He tries to move on. The door chimes, and someone clears their throat.

 

“Hey. Long time, no see Wash.”

 

Oh dear gods he’s not seeing things and Carolina is standing there, blowing his cover. Erik intervenes. “I’m sorry folks, there’s no one working here named-”

 

“She worked with me.” Aaron whispers in Erik’s ear, the meaning all too clear. Erik scowls for a moment.

 

“I’ll take care of the next batch of bread when it’s done. Go take care of it.”

 

“Thanks so much, Erik. I’ll give Dustin and Jason the heads up.” Aaron squeezes his friends shoulder. He walks out from behind the counter gesturing for Carolina to follow along. They exit the cafe and Aaron makes a subtle hand-sign by his hip. The two find a quiet back alley, and the older man can’t get a word out before the woman coldly asks.

 

“How are you alive?”

 

“I should ask you the same.” Aaron ignores the buzzing in his pocket. 

 

“This isn’t about me W-” Carolina looks insulted when he interrupts her.

 

“It’s Aaron, remember? Stop calling me those silly nicknames.” warns the hummer.

 

Carolina just looks at him, searching for any clue to indicate what he was playing at. There’s a look of understanding, like some puzzle piece just clicked into place in her head. “You’re on a job.”

 

Shit, he’s gotta save this. Or try to at least. “Yeah, I’m working. Bread doesn’t bake itself, y’know.”

 

“Are you a mercenary now?”

 

Fuck. “I..just hold on a second.” He pulls out his phone. The group chat is flooded with new correspondence. His fingers dart over the surface.

 

**FELIX: we’re in trouble.**

**MAINE: what happened**

**FELIX: some Pigeon and a red-head came into the shop.**

**FELIX: called Wash by name.**

**FELIX: he’s got Red with him, the Pigeon is still here.**

**FELIX: Wash said he worked with Red in the past.**

**MAINE: green eyes?**

**FELIX: yeah.**

**MAINE: damnit shes from pfl**

**LOCUS: We’ve got sights on them.**

**FELIX: of all the fucking places.**

**FELIX: they had to come here.**

**WASH: Call it off. Cover’s 100% blown.**

**LOCUS: What?**

**MAINE: you want backup**

**MAINE: wash**

**MAINE: pick up your phone**

**LOCUS: Wash, I have a clear shot.**

**LOCUS: Make the call.**

**WASH: Shut up.**

 

Wash sighs, looking at Carolina. “Just forget you saw me.” He about faces, ready to make a break for it when she hauls him back by his coat sleeve. He whips around, making a signal towards a building across the street.

 

It hits Carolina like a truck. “Snipers? Wash, how big is this thing?”

 

“I’m done talking.” Wash glares at Carolina, threat clear in the hummer’s voice.

 

“I’m  _ not _ !”

 

The older man shoves at her shoulder. “My life is none of your business! You’re putting us at risk, Car’!”

 

“Who is  _ us _ ?!” she demands, furious.

 

“Look, princess.” Comes a voice from the other end of the lane. Felix is twirling his cap lazily. “Aaron said step off. Need you to start listening before I have to  _ make _ you.”

 

Carolina rounds on the shrike, rage simmering just below the surface. “You. Who are you?”

 

“Doesn’t matter who I am. Aaron, make the call or I’m making it for you.” Felix slowly draws closer.

 

Wash huffs irritably. “Get Dustin and Jason to wrap.” he points to Carolina. “We’ll talk later. Coordinates sent to your secure feed. That work?”

 

For several moments, Wash thinks Carolina will fight back. Instead, she just snorts looking at the older man warily. “Fine.

 

With that, she vanishes, and they vanish along with her. That night, the cafe burns to the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

They meet in a warehouse that somehow belonged to the mercenaries under one of their litany of pseudonyms. All of them wear body armor over their civvies, nothing like they usually did, but it was enough to meet the demands of the current situation.

 

Wash’s phone goes off, and he picks it up.

 

**[FELIX] sent a file- [GuessWho.jpg]**

 

**WASH: Quit playing around. Stay out of the way until I know she’s fine.**

**FELIX: ruuude!**

**MAINE: were in place**

**WASH: Good.**

 

**Several people are typing…**

 

The hummer slips the device back into his coat pocket, looking up as Carolina rounds the corner. His side feels like he’s just crammed a beehive in there, but they can just hold their damned horses.

 

...except Wash thinks he might have an idea why his cell is having a stroke. Tucker, Caboose, and...oh fuck, is that Tex? The only thing that could top this is if those Red troopers showed up too.

 

“Car’ did you seriously have to bring a posse?” Wash grouses, rubbing at his face.

 

“She did when we wouldn’t let her go alone you fucking tool!” Tucker shouts, the blue jay’s wings fanned out emotionally.

 

“Yea’, Yeah!” Caboose tacks on cheerfully. “Because we wanted to say HELLO!!”

 

Tex just scans the room, seeming to fixate on one corner in particular.

 

“Can’t say I ever thought you’d willing work with Tex’, Carolina.” Wash points out and the redhead swings around to face the hummer, eyes narrowed dangerously.

 

“This isn’t about me Wash. This is about you deciding to be a mercenary, and not trying to touch base with me.”

 

“We were always mercenaries, Car’. We just dubbed ourselves ‘Freelancers’.” the older man’s voice is lower than he intended, full of darkness and storms. “And if you thought I was alive, why didn’t  _ you _ get in contact? Or is it  _ my _ responsibility to chase after  _ ghosts _ ?”

 

“That’s n-”

 

“Not what you meant? I’m sorry, did you mean I can’t be bothered to give a rat’s ass about people’s lives until they show up in front of me?” he laughs bitterly. His phone won’t stop going off. “ You never listened! Not to Connie, or me, especially not her!” Wash jabs a finger at Tex, who watches him from the corner of her eye before returning her attention to that corner.

 

“ _ Washington. _ ”

 

“Your ambition and competitiveness makes you burn everyone around you!” The man isn’t aware his wing instinctively snaps out until he feels the pull of his coat over the feathers. He doesn’t give a flying fuck at this point.

 

“Shut up!” Carolina yells, voice strained.

 

“No!” He screams right back at her. All the repressed betrayal and despair froths up to the surface. “You never listen until you have it shoved in your face!” Wash closes the gap between them, taking a sick sense of pride in how Carolina steps back nervously. “So let me tell you what my life has been like without  _ you _ .” he cracks his neck. “I was  _ abandoned _ after your reported death. Everyone was gone and the Project used me as a dog, sniffing out their scattered property. Did you know it’s protocol to detonate your teammate’s corpses for the Recovery Unit? So much of who I was is  _ gone _ because I didn’t have the luxury of being myself anymore. I had to recover North’s suit and rescue South from Maine. She  _ shot _ me for it! I let her live when I was ordered to kill, and she put two hollow points into me. She shattered the joint of my right wing and now it’s  _ gone _ .” 

 

That seems to visibly rattle Carolina. Good.

 

“I had to hunt down the shell of the man I loved and stop him. I had to lead a ragtag army to take down a beast, and you know what? They listened better than you ever did. I  _ found _ the Alpha. I had to fry the AI fragments left there. That’s not even half of it Car’”

 

“How could I have known!?” Carolina interjects.

 

“I’m not asking you to know about the past, I’m asking you to listen now, and  _ learn _ for the future!” Wash shouts back. “I was  _ arrested _ for stopping Maine like I did! ‘Destruction of Government Property.’ That’s what I was charged with. So I did the one thing they always  _ forgot _ I did. I  _ remembered. _ They sent me after Epsilon with Maine, who I wasn’t even sure was himself, or the Meta, or who the fuck knows?! So I’m forced to turn on the troops that helped me take him out, because that’s just how it is,  _ right _ ? I get a call telling me to go assist some mercenaries, but not before I’ve had to totally betray any small scrap of trust these soldiers had for me. Maine and I are sent on a year long assignment to ruin one of the organizations getting a little too close to things they wanted to keep secret. Fast forward and here I am, doing the exact same thing I did in Freelancer, but I’m doing it for private employers instead. So  _ forgive _ me for not dropping the life I have to chase down your shadows, Carolina!”

 

His phone is still going off endlessly, and the hummer is unable to find anything else to say. He can hardly think straight, so he fishes the cell out, flicking through it while Carolina stares at him, dumbfounded.

 

**While you were away:**

**LOCUS: Wash, 3 more inbound.**

**FELIX: shit**

**FELIX: I didn’t see them when I dropped down to join Maine.**

**MAINE: what??**

**MAINE: what do they look like**

**LOCUS: 2 winged, one unclear.**

**LOCUS: Rock Dove, and some sort of Jay.**

**FELIX: the ‘doves probs the one from the cafe.**

**LOCUS: Other looks like a woman, blonde, dark outfit, strongly built.**

**MAINE: i really hope its not who i think it is**

**LOCUS: The women are the only ones visibly armed.**

**LOCUS: Wash, are you there?**

**FELIX: the dick isn’t paying attention!**

**MAINE: fuck**

**LOCUS: That’s never reassuring to hear from you.**

**FELIX: I mean, if you insist big guy B]**

**LOCUS: -Felix.-**

**MAINE: this might get bloody**

**MAINE: thats tex**

**LOCUS: ...Is she anything like her file?**

**MAINE: worse**

**LOCUS: Do you need me there?**

**MAINE: can you get here silently**

**MAINE: shes a camo user she can spot you easy**

**LOCUS: It’s risky.**

**MAINE: stay put then**

**FELIX: Wash, you saggy tit, pay attention!**

**FELIX: oh yeeeah, let’s piss her off, great plan Shimmers!**

**FELIX: holy shit, jay-bird’s got some major balls!**

**MAINE: felix shut up**

**FELIX: fuck you.**

**MAINE: tex is looking at us**

**FELIX: she can’t see through the glass, dumbass, only we can.**

**FELIX: as long as we’re quiet it’s fine.**

**MAINE: debatable**

**FELIX: holy fuck.**

**FELIX: you fucking go Shimmers.**

**FELIX: tell her what’s up.**

**FELIX: spill that tea.**

**LOCUS: What?**

**FELIX: Wash is ripping Red a new asshole.**

**MAINE: -felix-**

**FELIX: fuck off, my soaps are on.**

**FELIX: …**

**FELIX: damn.**

**FELIX: -that’s- how he lost the wing?**

**MAINE: enough**

**FELIX: jesus christ, Maine.**

**MAINE: if we werent hiding id beat the shit out of you**

**FELIX: ;9**

**FELIX: …**

**FELIX: he’s really been through the ringer.**

**LOCUS: It’s in the file.**

**FELIX: okay, sugartits, I’ve actually read the thing, you know.**

**FELIX: and no this isn’t.**

**FELIX: oh snap, he’s talking about us!**

**FELIX: we’re merc’s!**

**MAINE: oh really**

**FELIX: yea.**

**FELIX: you fucking lay down the law, Wash. Atta boy.**

**FELIX: OH, ARE YOU FINALLY LOOKING AT YOUR PHONE?**

**FELIX: HEY BITCH HEY!**

**WASH: I’m done.**

 

The older man throws his phone. It doesn’t crack, but the battery pops out, skittering away. “You want to meet my crew, Car’?” his tone is venomous, not leaving any room for saying no. Wash raises his hand, making a beckoning motion.

 

There’s a long pause then Carolina jolts, looking at the roof, hand going to her pistol in a mirror image of Tex. Wash can hear the heavy footfalls that alerted the two. A low thud resounds, and Wash can see Locus before Carolina rounds on the eagle, taking aim. There’s not even an ounce of hesitation before there’s a sidearm in the older man’s hand. He aims it at the back of her head, pressing the muzzle into her vibrant hair.

 

“Car’ you asked for this meeting, remember?” Wash drives his point home by jabbing the gun at her.

 

“Yeah, with  _ you. _ ” she snarls.

 

“You brought a gang too,  _ princess _ .” Felix’s voie curls through the air. His long legs carry him from where he’d been hidden away, and he leans against the older man’s shoulder, smirking. “Fair is fair, after all.”

 

Tex looks beyond the shrike, where Maine surely must be. She speaks for the first time since she showed up. “Jesus, Maine, you grew your hair out? Guess you’re not actually bald.”

 

Carolina angrily shoves her gun back into its holster. “Wash, back off. I’m not going to shoot.”

 

“And if I don’t believe you?”

 

“That’s your call.” She growls, gritting her teeth.

 

Wash relents, but keeps his pistol in hand. The hummer sniffs dismissively, tail flicking ever so slightly. He stands his ground when the redhead whirls, glaring daggers at Maine. If she was winged, Wash would bet money that she’d be in full threat display mode.

 

“Nothing to say, huh?”

 

Wash’s crest flares, shifting to place himself between the owl and Carolina. “Don’t be a bitch about this. We can leave at anytime.”

 

She tosses her hair. “Fine. I’m not going to fuck with you two just-...” Carolina moves over, looking at Wash. “I’m struggling to come to terms with all of this.”

 

Wash knows. He knows his former teammate. She doesn’t do emotions. She doesn’t know how to put things back together when she breaks them. It was always Wash keeping them stitched tightly. “Right.” He watches her, feeling that old tired pull to make things better.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Wash’s shoulders jump. “Excuse me?”

 

Carolina stands there, body tense. “...I left when I could have come back. You needed me and...and I turned my back on you.” She casts her gaze back at Maine. “Both of you.” her lips are drawn into a tight line. “But I’m here  _ now _ .”

 

Maine brushes past Wash, large wings dusting against the older mans side. The owl stops in front of Carolina, chest feathers fluffing up. He’s appraising her for the longest time before he places a large hand on her head, ruffling her hair. The large man lets out a broken laugh.

 

The tension doesn’t vanish, but it lessens somewhat. Carolina whaps at Maine half-heartedly, looking at the floor. “Okay. Tucker, go ahead and say what you wanted to say.”

 

The blue jay is suddenly in Wash’s space. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” Tucker is furious, wings shaking. A hand snags the front of Wash’s coat. “You seriously don’t have anything to say to me? To  _ us _ ?!”

 

Wash doesn’t look away, steely eyes unwavering. “Yes. Everything I did was wrong. Even if I was under orders, it wasn’t okay.” he rolls his bad shoulder. “However, I’m pretty sure if I just said ‘sorry’ it would have pissed you off even more. I am sorry, for what it’s worth to you.”

 

Tucker’s grip loosens, allowing Wash to back off a bit. “I’m really not the one you should be apologizing to. You’re up, Church.”

 

A light glimmers near the jay’s shoulder.  **“Hey, Wash.”**

 

* * *

 

 

Wash’s throat was raw from all the shouting. The two groups had gathered up some crates and things of that nature to use as seats. The night was overwhelmingly hot, and the older man was miserable in his overcoat. He was only wearing the damn thing because they couldn’t pin his wing under the vest without it hurting his joints. Finally the arguments had died down.

 

Caboose was hovering around Wash, eyes twinkling merrily. “You will love our new base, Wash, it is so nice! We have lots of space for you to move in!!”

 

That throws the Freelancer, he squints at the rock dove. “Uh...what?”

 

Epsilon blinks in.  **“He thinks you’re coming home with us, Wash.”**

 

“Caboose, I...I already have a home.” Wash starts cautiously. “Also, I don’t think you’re going to be comfortable with Maine living there.”

 

“They’d also vanish all the time for work. They’re not exclusive to us, people hire them all the time.” Felix pipes up, grinning. “They’re pretty highly sought after.”

 

It’s all too apparent to the others that the blue sim trooper was confused. “What does that got to do with him moving in?”

 

**“It means he can’t stay, dude.”** Epsilon shrugs widely.  **“At least not forever.”**

 

“Oh…” the dove mumbles, looking like he might start crying. “Can he do slumber parties?”

 

Wash makes a face. “Maybe? Remember, it’s not just me, Maine would come too.”

 

“Well I think that’s okay. Ms. Carolina is scary but she stays with us!”

 

“You’re not the only one in the base, numbnuts!” Tucker glares across the way. “Pardon me for being wary around the psychotic owl that’s tried to kill us several times!”

 

Before Caboose can present his convoluted argument, Wash wades in. “Tucker does have a point, Caboose. You can’t speak for all your teammates. They have a right to say no.”

 

“...Okay.” the rock dove mumbles, wings slumping downward.

 

The hummer rubs the back of his neck, fingers slipping over the grooves from where his small (but very sharp) talons bit into his flesh as he desperately struggled to pull the AI unit from his neck. The only things that remain are the scars and sweat running down his back. He hesitates for a long moment before slipping out of his coat. The Kevlar vest is plain to see, in addition to his lone wing.

 

The others move on, topic shifting, and many conversations branch off from the main point. The older man can feel eyes on him, and when he looks up Tex is staring at him. Tiny snippets of someone else’s memories snatch at Wash’s mind before he can shake them away.

 

The blonde tilts her head to look at the damaged stump, whistling lowly. When she leans over to him, her tone is that soft one that strangers thought her incapable of. “Look. It’s your choice, but if you want a prosthetic or need to have a doctor take a look at it, I can get you set up, no questions asked.”

 

The older man is understandably suspicious of her. “What’s the catch?”

 

To her credit, Tex doesn’t seem to be offended with his wary reply. “I mean, if you  _ want _ to pay me, I’m not gonna turn it down, but I’m doing this because you deserve a break from all this bad shit that’s happened to y-”

 

Suddenly Epsilon shouts from across the room.  **“We’ve got company!”**

 

There’s an explosion of chaos and, well, actual explosives. The groups scatter, Wash huddled next to Tucker behind a pillar. He’s not used to entering combat without his armor, and is unable to easily feed Maine numbers and what sort of weapons they’re up against like he normally would. This was shaping up to be one hell of a fight. Their attackers (one of which was painted like an Insurrectionist.) were in full gear, and while PFL had run them through a scenario like this, it had been so long ago, and it had left many of them recovering in the med bay.

 

Wash watches as Tucker darts over to join Tex and Caboose, leaving the Freelancer alone. Maine motions from across the way, urging Wash to rush over as well. Wash checks one last time before dashing towards the owl. He hears the last thing he ever wanted to hear that night.

 

**“Shit! Sniper!”**

 

Just before he could stumble behind the overturned steel shipping container where Maine was with the mercenaries, there was the sound of a rifle echoing through the warehouse and pain blooms in Wash’s neck. A spray of red splatters the corner of the crate. Then the old man collapses, his world going dark.

 

* * *

 

 

**Several people are typing…**

 

**FELIX: okay cockbites.**

**FELIX: I’ve gathered you here because we’re in this shit together now.**

**FELIX: because -somebody- lead a fucking extremist group to our little pow wow.**

**CAROLINA: Shut up. Is Wash at the hospital yet?**

**LOCUS: Yes.**

**TUCKER: also, it wasn’t our fucking fault you murderous fucking pipecleaner!**

**FELIX: don’t -start shit- with me, Mr. Jay.**

**TUCKER: i’ll start shit with you when you get back from wherever the fuck you hid out!!**

**EPSILON: Tucker, stop talking.**

**EPSILON: Felix, stop being a little bitch.**

**CAROLINA: ALL OF YOU SHUT UP.**

**CAROLINA: Locus.**

**LOCUS: What.**

**CAROLINA: I need the hospital where you and Maine took Wash.**

**LOCUS: No.**

**CAROLINA: Excuse me?**

**CAROLINA: My teammate got shot in the goddamned -throat- and you two, who I never met before tonight, shuttle him and my OTHER teammate who -also- was shot in the throat in the past, to some ER and you’re not letting me know where to find them?**

**FELIX: nice run on sentence. Also, I hate to break it to you Red, but they ain’t your teammates. At least not anymore**

**CAROLINA: I am going to snap your fucking wings.**

**FELIX: gotta catch me first, Red. ;)**

**MAINE: in the O.R.**

**MAINE: locs’ give her the cords**

**LOCUS: Pardon?**

**MAINE: not asking again**

**LOCUS: ...A.O.M.S General, on Kings.**

**CAROLINA: Be there soon.**

**TUCKER: wait, are you seriously-**

**TUCKER: yeah, just checked, she’s not here.**

**TEXAS: Focus on clean up.**

**TUCKER: eps’ jumped to her, btw.**

 

Tucker turns his attention away from the chat, allowing Caboose to cling to his arm. The rock dove seemed to actually know how bad of a situation they were in for once. He was terrified of the thought that Wash might never come to that slumber party the dove had been planning. 

 

Tucker couldn’t even try to make dumb sex jokes to make himself feel better. All he can do is pick through what remains of their attackers and try to come to terms with that had just happened.

 

* * *

 

 

When Carolina got to A.O.M.S General she has to get Locus to come escort her to the back because, of course, the asshole had checked Wash in using another alias. (Chris) When she saw where Maine was sitting, she was surprised how easily she could read his body language. Not like Wash could, but it was all too clear from the bouncing of his knee and the trembling of his wings that the owl was blaming himself for what happened.

 

Carolina can’t find anything to say that wouldn’t make everything worse, so instead she sits beside the huge man and leans on his shoulder. Time slips away as she focuses on keeping her breathing steady. Eventually the sounds of the waiting room fade into a quiet hum. She’s starting to drift off when she feels Maine’s arm wrap around her shoulders to hold her close. When she glances up, the owl has tears rolling down his face. Carolina gently hugs him back.

 

“He’ll be okay, Maine.”

 

* * *

 

 

Wash wakes up when he hears a rhythmic beeping. Everything feels heavy and numb. Must be painkillers. He tried to call over the nurse fiddling with something on the other side of the room. He can only get out a weak gurgle before it feels like he’d downed a shot of gasoline and chased it with a lit match. It does the job, though. The nurse is at his side in moments.

 

“Chris? Listen to me Chris, don’t try to talk. You’re at the hospital. You came out of surgery three days ago, and you’re going to be moved to the rehab wing tonight. You’re going to be okay.” the mans wings are a rich brown that match his hair. He gently pats the old hummer’s shoulder. “I’m Nurse Luna. I’ll be helping you out with physical therapy over there. You’ve got some wonderful friends looking out for you.” Luna’s smile fades. “We’re going to do our best, but I have to tell you that the most we can really hope for is that you’ll have limited speech...are you familiar with sign language?”

 

Wash nods. Pointing at the nurse, he starts off with an ‘L’ before transitioning into the sign for ‘moon’. This seems to bring back the other man’s smile.

 

“Is that a name sign for me?”

 

Wash signs ‘yes’ before asking, [Who’s here for me?]

 

“Oh gosh, a whole pack of them. There’s an eagle, shrike, owl, blue jay, rock dove, and a wingless woman.” Luna explains while he jots something down on Wash’s chart. “Is there someone you’d like me to go get?”

 

[The owl and the woman.] Wash manages to hold back his tears until the brown winged nurse leaves the room. If the best hope was only limited use of speech, what was the actual outcome going to be? What if he ended up like-

 

Maine shoulders his way through the doors, amber eyes on his partner in an instant.  _ “Wash.” _ His body is tense as a bowstring, looking ready to snap at any second. When the owl stumbles over, Carolina is left in his wake. Her face is unreadable, looking around the room warily. Maine cups Wash’s face in one massive palm.  _ “Are you feeling okay?” _

 

The older man shrugs lamely as a rough thumb brushes stray tears away.

 

Maine is searching Wash’s expression, seemingly waiting for his companion to speak. The hummer gently touches the dressing secured around his neck. He shakes his head, and the owl visibly deflates, wings drooping to his sides.  _ “Wash I...I’m so sorry I let this happen to you.” _

 

Wash shakes his head so hard that the wound twinges painfully. He grips at Maine’s forearm. [Not your fault. Sniper shot me, not you.]

 

The tall man just cradles the back of Wash’s head, lightly kissing his browline.  _ “I’m going to make this right again.” _

 

[I know you will.] Wash admits when he knows Maine can see his hands again. His hands trace through the chilly air of the recovery room. [And I’ll be there with you. Like always. Right?]

 

_ “Like always.” _

**Author's Note:**

> oh gods I am so sorry I'm just emotionally compromised by episode 17.


End file.
